Me and Dimaggio: A Baseball Fan Goes in Search of His Gods

Lehmann-Haupt, a New York Times book reviewer, here offers his first book, about a lifetime passionbaseball. Covering an entire season from spring training through the World Series and winter meetings, the author has a uniquely rich topic to work with. But instead of a thoughtful, pleasurable look at the game and its heroes, we are presented with a stale, self-indulgent diary that fails to capture the magic of the national pastime. Freely admitting that ""there were few things that made me more uncomfortable than socializing with a lot of strangers,"" Lehmann-Haupt repeatedly asks inane questions of players that usually elicit embarrassing, four-letter-word responses. The title comes from the author's standing love affair with the Yankees and Joe DiMaggio, but instead of affection we get innuendo, as Lehmann-Haupt attemptsgoing back nearly 40 yearsto tie DiMaggio to mobsters in Cleveland. There are also impressions of luminaries such as Reggie Jackson, Billy Martin, Tom Lasorda, Steve Garvey and (in the most whimsical sequence in the book) Tony Kubek. Lehmann-Haupt was offered an opportunity that most fans would sell their souls for. It's a shame he struck out. (September 29)